"For
now we see through a mirror, darkly; but then face to face: now I
know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." (1
Corinthians 13:12)

He
stands before a sleeping city in the dark of the night, feeling too
warm in his heavy military uniform. The night in silent like a well
and there is no moon as if it has decided to hide behind the clouds,
rather than witness the wickedness that will take place tonight. The
only lights coming are from the dimly lit lamps inside the mud
houses. Only soldiers are awake at this unholy hour because of unholy
orders.

The
houses are so simple with thatched roofs and no electricity and there
are so many of them. Such a simple civilization without modern
conveniences like electricity and running water, why would the
government want it annihilated? Sometimes he can see the silhouettes
moving about inside the rooms and he feels an inexplicable urge to
and warn them of what is about to happen. Kimbley and Gran have their
positions on other sides of the city to stop anyone from ever getting
out. Maybe he could do something now...

Instead
he looks at the ring with a gleaming red stone that he has slipped on
under the orders of his superiors, and his eyes narrow and harden
with determination that he has to do this, no matter how much it
hurts, no matter how senseless it is.

Then
he raises his hand, sheathed in rough white ignition cloth and snaps
his fingers and watches the city light up like orange-red flames in a
fireplace.

"She
did what?"

Lieutenant
Riza Hawkeye winces at the force of the bellow coming from the
dark-haired man seated before her and she shifts uncomfortable under
his obsidian gaze, feeling like a child telling on her sibling to
their parents.

"She
refused to transmute the holding cell when General Harrison commanded
her to do so, sir," she says to the floor. "When he asked her
why, she told him that she wouldn't kill, no matter who ordered her
to."

Colonel
Roy Mustang's eyes harden as he looks back at his desk, lacing his
fingers on his lap, jaw clenched in controlled rage. "I see," his
voice is edgy and for once, Hawkeye is afraid of him.

"Luckily,
the general decided not to have Edward court-marshaled because she's
so young. She is waiting outside to hand in her report, sir," she
says quietly. She holds her breath and shies away a little, afraid of
what he'll say next.

"Send
her in," he says grimly and she quickly leaves, flushing.

He
looks out the window. Central is usually noisy and stern but it is
such a quiet and beautiful day outside in the wake of the end of
another war and the trees are shedding their reddish brown leaves to
blanket the ground in the autumn chill and for a moment, he thinks
it's unfair that he should be made to stay cooped up within these
four walls to deal with wayward subordinates while Black Hayate runs
around happily in the grass with a bone in his mouth. He can see
people shuffling the dry leaves on the dull stone pavements beneath
their feet and the sound reminds him of fire cracking. Something is
wrong with the electricity in this building today and the ceiling
fans aren't working, which makes his blood boil in his veins even
more than a certain blonde –

Who
is being quietly ushered into his office by an anxious-looking
Hawkeye, who is undoubtedly afraid of what he'll do the younger
officer in the brunt of his anger, like a mother who is afraid how
her husband will discipline their naughty child.

Said
younger officer, on the other hand, seems to have to fears whatsoever
and looks up at him calmly, defiantly, like a criminal who has
received the death penalty but refuses to apologize because in his
mind, he is some sort of savior, pure and righteous, fighting against
a world that does not understand him.

"Fullmetal,"
he regards her with fiery coldness and she looks back, unflinching.
There is hate and rebelliousness in those ocher eyes that are now
fixed on him and he remembers that of all his subordinate officers,
she is the one who is the least afraid of him, like a child who is
not afraid of monsters hiding under her bed because she knows that
there are no such things as monsters or ghosts, and if there are,
then she'll battle them bravely until they are slain and she can
get a good night's sleep. She says nothing. After handing in her
report, she just stands there as stiff as pole and waits for him to
pronounce judgment on her.

"I
heard something very displeasing about you today," his gaze does
not falter.

Neither
does hers.

"I'm
told that you disobeyed General Harrison's orders to transmute a
certain prison at Drachma," he keeps looking at her. "Is this
true?"

"It
is," she says, voice husky and unflinching. Such admirable
courage, to not be afraid in the face of certain danger when other
soldiers would be wetting their pants because of the consequences.

"How
do you defend yourself?"

"I
don't." She looks away from him then, eyes filled with pain, just
like a martyr so willing so die for what he believes is right. "I'm
not a killer."

"But
you're a soldier!" he raises his voice then as he gets to his
feet and slams down his fist on his desk, rattling the penholders on
the smooth wooden surface. She flinches and maybe at other time, he
would have been reveled in getting such a reaction from her but he is
too angry now to take pleasure in such petty things. "You disobeyed
a direct order on the battlefield, from an officer superior to you by
several ranks!" He takes a deep a breath and tries to calm himself
down. It's no good to scream at her, there's no point...what
are you trying to achieve?

There
is silence in the room, heavy as a blanket and as warm as the fire
that he set on Ishbal so many years ago and he feels that maybe if he
reaches his hand out now, he can touch the silence and feel its
density against his fingertips, fingertips that took so many
innocently lives by creating a single spark.

She
meets his gaze right then, her eyes heated with the fury of the sun
and again, he sees flames rising in a tranquil city.

Buildings
falling down, people running out of their houses, screaming while
they blaze, mothers uselessly trying to put out the flames from the
burning bodies of their children while he stands and witnesses the
horror that is taking place just from a simple snap of his fingers.

Fullmetal's
eyes are like fire, he observes and through them, he sees that
infernal past, which becomes even more vivid as she glares at him
unwaveringly and says in a strained, hate-filled voice, "I won't
kill! I don't care who tells me to."

Roy
freezes right then and he feels a cold shiver down his spine as
though the temperature in the room has suddenly dropped and hell has
just frozen over. He stares at her, flabbergasted; he has been doing
that a lot lately when she comes to his office to rant or hand in a
report and for a moment, he allows his gaze to linger on her blond
braid and slightly roundish face before he swallows and says in a
voice stern with suppressed rage, "That is not an option, Edward.
You agreed to become a dog of the military when you became a State
Alchemist and I don't think I need you remind you that all dogs
have to obey their masters whether they like it or not."

But
why do they want to kill these people? What did they do?

"You
are my subordinate," he continues, "and what you do reflects on
me, as well."

"Oh,
so this is about you now!" she exclaims furiously, taking a step
forward, her clenched automail fist raised as though she would like
nothing better at that moment than to take a swing at him.

He
tenses, finding that he can't blame her. "I've overlooked
your...shortcomings," he begins, ignoring what she has just said.

And
she bursts out, "Who're you calling so short that you can't see
them in a ten-meter radius?"

He
glowers at her. "That's not what I said, Fullmetal. I've
overlooked your slipups long enough because you were looking for the
Philosopher's Stone – "

"Which
we still haven't found!" she interjects but he motions her to
shut up.

"Stop
interrupting me!" he says irritably. "You have take
responsibility for your thoughtless actions at one point, Fullmetal."
He takes a deep breath to stop himself from trembling and he briefly
closes his eyes, feeling like he's about to step off a precipice
and plunge to his death.

People
on fire, arms flaying in a way that is helpless and comic at the same
time, jumping off the roofs in a desperate attempt to extinguish the
flames...that didn't require much thought.

He
opens his eyes and looks at Edward. She is looking at him
distrustfully and this time, there is a trace of fear in those fiery
eyes. He holds out his hand, hoping that she can't see he's
shivering even though the room has started to feel hot and stuffy
again and a trickle of sweat runs down his spine...

"Give
me your watch," he says levelly.

Her
eyes widen in surprise and horror and she takes a step back as if she
has been put face-to-face in a boxing ring with a giant cobra. Her
lips part and for a moment, no sound comes out of them. And then,
those rosy lips form a single, defiant word, "No."

"Give
me your watch, Fullmetal," he says more firmly this time, his
patience running out like the heat of the sun drying up the water in
the wells of desert cities.

"You're
discharging me?" she cries like a little girl whose favorite toys
are being taken away because she refused to 'behave' the way her
parents wanted her to.

"You're
lucky you aren't being court-marshaled!" He explodes. And then,
he smirks slightly. "I'm suspending you for a fortnight." He
pauses for effect before he says, "Without pay."

"WHAT?"
Edward bellows. "You can't do that – "

"I
can't do that?" Roy echoes with a mirthless laugh. "Watch me."

She
pauses and stares at him in panic and disbelief. "But...what am I
supposed to eat? How am I supposed to pay the rent? How do I take
care of Al?" she sputters. She isn't really saying this to him.
Rather, she's mumbling them to herself, trying to understand what
she will do now and for the briefest of moments, he feels sorry for
her.

He
recovers quickly with a resigned shake of his head. "You live in
the dorms, Fullmetal – you don't pay rent. Now give me your
watch. That's an order."

She
visibly grits her teeth and stomps up to him, her footfall uneven as
she reaches into the pocket of those tight-fitting leather pants, –
her legs are slender and shapely – pulls out a silver watch
and slams it into his outstretched hands. "Here you go, you fucking
bastard," she spits hatefully. "Hope you're happy now."

A
child having a temper tantrum.

A
child...

Which
is why he should not be looking at the curves of her breasts against
her short black jacket.

He
raises his head, hoping that she didn't notice him staring at her
for all the wrong reasons, and he smirks. "Perhaps in future, you
will think before you decide to disobey a higher-ranking officer,
Fullmetal," he says to her coldly.

She
narrows her eyes disdainfully at him and if looks could kill, then he
would be a charred corpse right now, just like the innocent civilians
he slew at Ishbal.

"I'll
see you in two weeks, Fullmetal," he says impudently as he watches
the younger alchemist throw a final glare over her shoulder and slam
the door shut.

He
sighs and leans back in his chair, trying to calm down. He looks out
the window just in time to see her storm out of HQ and the other
officers quickly get out of her way as they notice her angry
expression. The words he said to her earlier still ring in the room.

Perhaps
in future, you will think before you decide to disobey a
higher-ranking officer, Fullmetal.

But
Fullmetal has never cared about rank and never will.

He
smiles sadly. That's what makes her the smarter one.

Russel
is lying beside Ed on the bed as she looks up at the shadows on the
ceiling, her mind drifting back to Drachma and this morning. She has
been seeing him for a few months now, on and off. It is nothing
serious, although she suspects sometimes that he would like it to be
serious and he seems to have missed her while she was away at war for
a month. But now the war is over and under different circumstances,
she would have been happy to see him, she would have kissed him
fiercely and clawed at his clothes as soon as he entered her
apartment but now, she is troubled by other things that she witnessed
during her time away, even more so by this morning.

You
agreed to become a dog of the military when you became a State
Alchemist and I don't think I need you remind you that all dogs
have to obey their masters whether they like it or not.

Her
jaw clenches again and her eyes harden in rage. And then she starts
as she feels soft lips delicately kiss her jaw line. She turns back
to see Russell looking at her in concern.

She
keeps looking at him for few moments and then she sighs and leans
back in his embrace, trying to relax. "I'm fine," she lies,
keeping her gaze fixed on the wall beside their bed.

He
nods. "How's work?"

She
grimaces at the way he says the word "work," as if he has no idea
(and he doesn't) about the implications of that word. Work is
stressful and severe, filled with generals demanding her to kill
innocent people against her will and handsome colonels suspending her
with a smirk just because she didn't do as she was told.

But
you asked for this, she reminds herself.

If
anyone should endure the shame of becoming a military dog, then let
me be the one, Al.

Her
fists still clench with rage as she replays the earlier scene in
Mustang's office and she can't seem to block it out of her mind
no matter how hard she tries. It is like the horrifying scenes she
witnessed at Drachma...

Soldiers
gunning down women and children, looting at plundering under the
orders of higher-ranking officers while she stands there, trembling
in shocked rage, witnessing war for the first time...

"Ed,
are you listening to me?"

She
turns to Russell. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

He
sighs in irritation. "I was saying that I need to get going."

She
frowns, surprised. "You're not staying?" Inside, she can't
bring herself to care much, at least, not tonight when all she wants
to do is take Mustang by the back of his neck and smash his smirking
face into his desk or the wall.

"No,
Fletcher's sick, I need to get back to the hotel." He gets up and
starts buttoning his shirt. "Jeez, Ed, you sound really bothered
about something."

"It's
nothing, I told you." Now she is annoyed. He just got to Central
this morning and he intends to go back to Youswell tomorrow. She
can't say that she was looking forward to spending more time with
him because right now, she prefers to be alone and not go through the
humiliation of him laughing at her because she got suspended.

Ok,
so maybe he wouldn't laugh at her but he might be smug because he
keeps saying that she has a bad temper.

As
if he doesn't.

She
waits until he is gone from her room and then she fixes her clothes.
Her hair is loose from his prying fingers (she hates it when people
touch her hair, even worse, when they stare at her automail). She
isn't too fond of Russell and sometimes she wonders why she's
going out with him if she doesn't like him. Then again, he is the
one who made it sound like a good idea in the first place...

She
is rummaging through the cupboard looking for something to eat when
the door opens and Al comes in, looking as meek as possible in a suit
of armor. "Is he gone?" he asks.

She
nods and waves him inside. He walks as quietly as he can so that he
doesn't wake up in the other soldiers in the dorm. There were
enough complains since they started living here and Al had to hold
her back from maiming those soldiers for calling him a chunk of metal
and her a dwarf.

She
hasn't seen much of Al all day because she was too busy wandering
out in the streets after getting dismissed from that bastard
Mustang's office (Mustang who spends too much time smirking and
staring at her like he owns HQ and she's just another one of his
dogs, or even worse, his admirers). Al sits at the table, the
metal making a loud noise against the wood of the chair. She's used
to it by now. She has no right to complain. After all, it is her
fault that he's in this body of steel.

You
have take responsibility for your thoughtless actions at one point,
Fullmetal.

Which
reminds her.

"Hey...Al?"
she speaks up.

He
looks at her expectantly. "Yeah?"

"There's
something I need to tell you..." she momentarily gives up her
search for food (her confession is more important now) and she
settles on a chair beside him and fidgets under his steady gaze.

"WHAT?"
Al nearly jumps to his feet but she holds him back, urging him to
calm down. "He suspended you? He can't do that! We need to talk
to him, sister..."

She
shakes her head and looks down to the floor, dejected. "I don't
think there's anything we can do, Al."

"But
what did you do?" asks Al. "Why would he suspend you?"

"You
remember that I didn't want to transmute the prison at Drachma when
the general ordered me to?" she sighs as she watches the helmet
nod. "Well...that's why I got suspended."

"But
– but," the boy sputters and she exhales heavily.

"I
know he ordered me," she goes on quietly in the darkness. "But I
just couldn't do it with all those prisoners inside. And I'm not
sorry." She sounds determined. "I just couldn't take their
lives knowing that..." she trails off and looks up as she feels a
comforting big hand come to rest on her shoulder.

"I
understand, sister," the boy says sympathetically. "And I thought
the Colonel would, too. I mean, didn't he fight the war at Ishbal?"

Ed
shrugs and leans forward on the table. "Yeah," she says. "I
guess he didn't have much of a choice."

"And
what about our..." he starts.

"Don't
worry about it," she explains. "It's only for two weeks. Then
I'll be back in duty." She smiles and tries to shrug off the
sinking feeling in her stomach from remembering the cries and the
explosions and ruined buildings back at Drachma. She still has
nightmares about those images...maybe she really did expect Mustang
to cut her some slack.

Instead,
he just yelled at her and took away her watch.

She
looks up at Al with a sudden bright smile on her face. His shoulders
are slouched in depression, depression over something she did and
while she herself doesn't mind feeling upset, she can't stand to
see her little brother suffer because of her. He suffers enough
already in that suit of armor...